Chilled exorcist

Realizing that he would get no answer, the Elder pursed his lips rather nastily. He looked at his companions as if he had forgotten where they were, or was looking to them for support and guidance. And then, having gathered his thoughts again, he turned to me.

"We are pleased to welcome you to our village, mylsdar. What business brings you here?" The headman scratched his gray and sparse hair. I could see three large brown moles on his head through the thinning gray.

"The Earl of Feanoth Castle is going to ride to Kostegrad next month, and he needs the hunters to clear the Rube Tract of particularly dangerous creatures of the cold and cold. Especially the cold ones."

"The Rubezhny Tract?" the Elder wondered. "It runs south, right by the old castle. I remember, in the old days, there was a village called Sgulli. It was fun in those days! We had caravans and times. Not like now…"

I bit my lip, I knew it was in the middle of nowhere. But I also knew that the locals would be quicker to bring me up to speed. I needed to understand what was troubling the village and what was dangerous in this land.

Another boy ran down from the wall, looking like two peas in a pod like the bounty hunters behind the old man's back. I looked around. The villagers coming down from the wall were all basically the same face, like close kin. "Seems like they've been living here in isolation for years, in this very wilderness. And really, where would they go? It's the darkness around them that has made them prisoners of this wilderness." The boy handed me my black arrow wrapped in a white handkerchief.

"Your arrow, sir," he bowed and handed me his great treasure. I thanked him and took the instrument. As soon as the boy handed over his burden, he immediately ran off somewhere and disappeared among the courtyards. I looked at the village headman talking about the rich past, the merry days, the frequent visits of the southern traders and the harsh living conditions, and decided that it was time to take the initiative. This way, we can negotiate until Jodecheim's demise.

"These are dark times! I'm telling you," the old man, who had become hoarse from his long speech, wagged his finger.

"Do you have any black arrows?" I interrupted the Elder.

"We don't have black arrows, Mr. Hunter," the old man began to shake his head. He shook it for a surprisingly long time.

"Not quite so," replied a tall man who was accompanying the old man, "we do not have arrows, but there is an ancient crypt near us. Another hunter was buried in it ten years ago."

I nodded. If he had any arrows left, we should look for them near him. Ten years ago, the Order gave almost every hunter his own crossbow. But things change, only the general law seems immutable. The Grave Moss Emperor's command is as categorical as a double-edged knife. "Whoever steals a hunter's property from him shall be executed, and if any hunter steals from others, let him do the same, let him be put to death."

The old-timer almost dragged out his earlier speech about the old days again, taking advantage of the pause.

"Is there any uneasiness in the village?" I tried to look into the old man's eyes. He blinked and stopped his shuffle, standing there flapping his eyes.

"What do you mean?" finally the old man looked at me questioningly.

"Have the hunters gone missing? Are all the children healthy?" I was beginning to feel a little sick, weak.

The other man, who had thrown the Elder off the wall with his partner, grinned. With his powerful neck and working shoulders, however, he shook his round belly.

"There is such a thing. Why shouldn't it be, it's commonplace. Hunters disappear every now and then, children get sick when they lick the gray earth, or when pestilence blows from the north, the same thing." It was a very eloquent mocking look. He didn't seem to like me, and because of some of his beliefs he despised me.

I looked down, and then glanced sideways, eye to eye with my laughing companion.

"What dashing thing ever happened? One that would make the whole village afraid and unable to do anything," I said firmly.

All around froze. It felt cold. Another big man shivered, and the Elder continued, "It was, it was! It happened…" He began to remember and worry. "Last week, I remember, it was yesterday. Three of our village hunters were brought to us, all pale, as if they had never seen the light of Jodkheim. They couldn't put the memorial relic in the crypt."

"I see," I nodded. "Anything else?"

"As my grandson said, there is an ancient crypt here." The village head pointed in the direction with his hand. "We used to bury everyone in it, but there's someone dangerous there now, growling and roaring, and I don't want to go inside and check who's there."

"Grandson?" I ran my gaze once more over the broad shoulders of the young man, and he smiled proudly back at me, catching my sleepy and slanted gaze.

"I see," I nodded again and moved on to the slippery subject. "What will you pay with?"

At that moment a boy appeared. He was carrying a rag full of something heavy. The Elder waved his hand, beckoning him to come closer to him.

"My great-grandson is a bright boy," the old man said, rubbing the child's head and pursing his lips.

The man on my right unfolded the bundle and showed me the contents. Inside were precious jasper earrings with emeralds, a silver necklace upholstered in gold, and a gold ring so rich in content that one would not find such a thing in Count Feanot. Here also lay someone's wedding ring, signed "I love you T.T."; it seems that the villagers cannot read. Next to it was a tourmaline-encrusted hair comb, without two prongs, made of a rare alloy that had been brought from the Light Motherland. A handful of fanciful antiquities, so mysterious that I twirled them thoughtfully in my hands. Their purpose was unknown to me. And there were forty coins in gold underneath all the jewelry. I struggled to resist the urge to take more than the Order's code allowed. "I wish I could shoot you in the head with that black arrow," I remembered the words of a stingy mercenary who had once traveled with me. Meanwhile, noticing my hesitation, the village chief continued, "Travelers and caravans rarely come to us…" "We don't even remember how much it costs? It must be a lot, right?"

Looking at the Elder again, I answered, "I'll take as much as my work is worth, no more." I took two gold coins from his hand. And in my mind I thought, "How about that! They're burying him in crypts! No, just stealing his valuables."

Everyone had a look of utter amazement on their faces. Apparently, they had no idea of the wealth they possessed. The young men standing behind the old man looked at each other. One of them quickly took the gold for himself. The boy lowered his head, and without waiting for the bag of coins, he kicked a roadside stone.

"In the morning, since there are no blacks..... I need simple arrows. It won't be easy to get through the woods to the crypt. You have some dangerous predators here. Now I'd like to get some sleep, I'm tired from the road."

"Go to the house on the right, Revva lives there. Her husband died not so long ago, so she'll take you in for the night," the old man explained.

I slightly raised my pointed hat and left. I was terribly sleepy. The boy darted forward, apparently to warn the woman who lived there.

When I arrived, everything was ready. The woman invited me to the table and put a simple plate in the form of a flat board with meat and leaves. I took the meat with my hand and took a few bites, swallowed it almost without chewing. Promising to cook something else for me, she disappeared into the next room. I picked up a bottle of murky tincture and took a sip of something very strong. That was the last straw.

Dumpling wanted to give me something else to eat, but I wasn't much of a gourmet, so the naked woman found me sleeping with my face in the salad. I was soaked by the burning fireplace, and as soon as I sat down, I fell asleep. Two days on horseback through one of the most dangerous regions of the Empire. I bet anyone, even the toughest of men, would have passed out after that. So at the first opportunity, my body took its own, feeling safe.

The woman sighed and sat back in her chair with her foot on her leg, pouring a strong drink. Wake up the dangerous black bird that had flown into her house? A hunter? A killer of the chilled? She didn't dare.

Chapter 3: "Crypts and Guardians"

A small black-backed varan with luscious yellow flanks blocked the way, opened its bright scarlet collar, sharply poured with blood, and hissed, chasing the intruders away. He was not intimidated at all, so he preferred to move out of their way, noticing the glint of glass and metal and the confidence with which the intruders were advancing. Folding its crests and blowing its yellow flanks, the varan hid in a burrow beneath a boulder overgrown with rusty moss.

The two travelers emerged from the Dark Forest where not a single strand of Titan reached the ground. The well-lit edge, however, allowed a few rays of Titan Yodkheim to fall upon their serious faces. Before them stood the burial ground of the ancient highborn. A stone-walled cemetery with the same centuries-old marble slabs and mounds of forefathers who had been the continent's explorers. Behind them, a mysterious crypt was in a light haze, waiting for rare guests. Five feet high and with a massive colonnade, it could have rivaled the small walls of the First Gate that stood on the road in front of the Fortress of Rukh. Only here the archway led not to the last Lands of Light, but somewhere deep in the centuries, into the impenetrable darkness.

The fog was not uniform. It flowed like a marshmallow, parting under their footsteps, swirling along the trunks of trees, and creeping over the ground. The bottom layer floated and drifted right over the dirt as if it were smoking. The soil squelched and implied a swamp, in time safely hidden behind fall, moss, and bumps. The branches did not crunch underfoot, they remained damp in such depths of dark woods.

A man in black robes took the first step onto the cemetery ground, right through the masonry of a marble arch that had long ago collapsed. With the arc of his crossbow he cautiously beckoned the other man behind him and walked along the stone fence, leaving a direct path along the same stone path to the steps up to the colonnade in front of the crypt.

Serenity reigned over the ancient ruins. Centuries-old elms and oaks swayed on all sides from the wind walking through their crowns here. The leaves murmured, shimmered, whispered. But the travelers shunned going out into the open, they walked along the masonry fence along the edge of the burial grounds. This fence, heavily pierced by roots, had been the only barrier to the darkness since the cemetery had been here. On three sides, surrounding the space of the buried, it served as a solid defense that had stood there for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years. On the last, fourth side, there in front, stood the crypt, a gaping passageway leading down into the depths of darkness. Two rows of massive columns, right and left, gradually protruded from the golden haze of mist. They stood on a level elevation of slabs. And behind the immense columns rose equally smooth high walls that closed off the back side of the cemetery from the forest. They shaped the burial ground into a regular rectangle. And even the trees of the Dark Forest were afraid to enter it and preferred to avoid it.

One of the men looked carefully into the center of the ancient cemetery. There, among the shriveled tombstones, two open marble sarcophagi floated in the mist in the middle of the burials. One carved lid, with a knight depicted on it, had fallen apart and was in three pieces. The other was too sturdy and lay there, beneath the marble bed. Two sarcophagi, two hollow coffins for the number of guests.

…

Taking another step, I brushed the dewdrops off the last blades of grass and stepped onto the white steps. As I walked up the rough surface of the steps, I touched the wet marble of the side wall of the crypt with my hand. It was as smooth as if it had been polished yesterday, the damp drizzle gathering right on it and flowing down a small stream in a chute. My companion took his time, looking around, he picked his way among the ruined tombstones. "I think it's the right decision to go around along this whole long white wall. The marble seems to have flecks of jade," I looked closely at the stone. Ahead, two rows of columns again emerged from the fog. Finally, my companion caught up with me, and we moved forward without making any noise.

Titan Jodcheim was nearing sunset. Even though I'd ordered a wake-up call in the morning, none of the locals dared to get me up at the crack of dawn. Especially after my "greeting the guards," they didn't want to get a crossbow bolt or worse in their foreheads. Having slept well among the lettuce leaves, I gladly sent one of the leaves wilted on my sweat into my mouth, "Mmmm..... That's a flavor I'll never forget." Afterward was a conversation with the deputy Elder, the young man who had balked in front of me yesterday. He clenched and unclenched his hands, feeling a kind of insecurity while talking to me. I looked at his shattered fists, "Did he really fight with his twin over gold in the middle of nowhere like this?" The deputy told me that the head of the settlement was sick from all yesterday's worries and asked him to choose a guide for me.

Borna, my guide, followed suit as I froze near the crypt. The woodcutter's ragged and anxious breathing turned to vapor with each exhalation. His stick was slipping from his sweaty hands, and he gripped it tighter. Borna fumbled himself so hard, that when I turned to him, I made him flinch.

"Why don't you go back, there's not much going on inside?" I glanced at him obliquely, leaving the first pair of columns behind and keeping my eyes on the passageway. He looked as if I'd invented speech for him again. And it poured out of him like a full-blown river.

"No, no, my lord! Have mercy! I don't walk in the woods alone! I'll be eaten, I'll be calmer with you at least," the man wailed, taking away the trembling in his knees. "If he continues to tense himself up like this, then our business will definitely not end well," I thought. "We've got to distract him somehow."

"Do you have the relic?" I tossed the question casually over my shoulder, treading carefully on the marble slabs, which were surprisingly tightly fitted together.

"Yes, yes, she's here." Borna dropped his hand to the bundle lying on top of his shoulder bag.

"Try to keep up," I whispered to him as I ducked closer and closer. "One more thing. Light a fire. You have a torch with you, I hope?"

"Yes, yes, here, wait, wait, I'll light it," Borna paused to get what he needed from his bag, and I stood waiting. With two flicks of a flint, my guide lit some caustic cloth with shaking hands. Then he stood up and grasped his club with his other hand, and then he smiled.

"It's a bit of a thrill," he exhaled with a sigh of relief.

I knew the feeling. Fire always adds confidence and determination when nothing else does. "Fire is plain and simple, it's always at hand. And if a hunter enlists its help, then maybe I can do something too," such a person will cheer himself up. How many times I had to use this trick with the novices of the Order during the trials. Well, and if there was no fire at hand, then I gave them a knife in their hands, and they were immediately encouraged, even if they did not know how to use it at all.

"All right." I pulled from my bag a green glowing crystal in a small cage and with a hanging handle. They say that back then, when the first settlers arrived on the island of Amberesvet the Great, the prisoners went under the Canopy of the Unknown with such emerald crystals. Then, long ago, at the dawn of the first age, as I said, they were worn by the prisoners to dispel the darkness of the Canopy. And now we hunters wear them to ward off the infected creatures of the ancient night. These crystals are like a short leash, made only to keep the convicts from straying too far from the expedition. The crystal sucks the life force of its wearer. And now I felt a kind of wind blowing through me and taking my vital juices inside the crystal, which was burning with new vigor. The skin on my fingers would gradually become flabby, like a bath, then begin to cool, and if I delayed, it would suck everything out. Belatedly, familiar otherworldly disordered voices sounded. They wailed, whispered, sighed. They say they are the moans of the souls of those whose lives this crystal has already consumed.

And everything was stained with the red blood of Titan Jodecheim. The columns were lost in the gloom, the thick fog coming up on the right and left in a scarlet glow. Behind was the graveyard, huge stone tombstones. To the right and left towered columns of reddened white marble, they reflected the light, casting a scarlet veil over everything. The haze ahead shrouded the blue shadowed passage into the darkness of the unknown past with a bloody shawl. Footsteps whispered between the columns with a resounding echo, disappearing into the tomb. And then there was the pounding of his heart, unexpectedly loud for such a late hour.

Borna behind me stepped on a branch. It crunched, shattering into ashes. I turned my head slightly in his direction, and he spread his arms. Ahead came a hoarse and harsh growl and a series of wheezes from a predator sniffing for prey. He roared, already more clearly guarding his territory. I had a few guesses as to who might be inside. All that remained was to confirm or deny them.

I crouched down carefully and looked at the floor. There were claw marks on it. "The predator was huge, and not so long ago it had dragged some large prey into its lair…" I put a drop of blood on my tongue that was clearly visible on the stone, "a young deer, by the looks of it." I ran my hand over it and examined it, "Hmm. The layer of dust has been wiped away, as if it had been swept with a broom." No creature matched the description.

The cage with the crystal dropped to the floor, and it went out almost immediately. If rumors are to be believed, there is another crystal, a light crystal that can dispel darkness without taking payment in the form of life force. Thunderbirds, the Rukhs, decorate their nests with it. It also stands on the ancient lighthouses in every big city. The capital city is named after him – Amberlight the Great. He is the light of Titan Jodcheim enough to dispel the darkness. It's also known as the blood of the Son of Light. You ask why I don't use it? We are forbidden to possess it. The crystal is inaccessible to hunters because they have fought the peculiar contagion that reigns on the other side of the mountains, and in five years have absorbed dangerous concentrations of it. Therefore, it is forbidden for the killers of the cold to possess it. After their service, each hunter is released into the lands of the living to use their experience to fight the weaker spawn of the blight. In all my time here among the living, I have never seen such a jewel.

All my assumptions fell apart. And I was wondering what kind of people were here, when the unexpected answer came to me: "What unusual footprints. Madness! They're not extinct after all, are they? Yes, that would answer all questions! It can't be! And is it really an owl bear? It makes sense. The male carries food to the egg-laying female. He hunts in the forest, and the crypt is a very good and protected place to nest. It's late evening. The male owl bear has just gone hunting. We seem to have missed him."

Taking a couple flasks of paralyzing smoke from my bag, I tossed them inside, "In a closed room, the smoke should put everyone inside to sleep. The female owl bear, if it's really her, can't see us yet, which means she won't be aggressive."

"We have a few minutes. After that, the predator will wake up," Borna wanted to rush forward, grabbing his club, but I held his elbow.

"You can rejoice, you have a family of owl bears here," I shared with him, and a rare slight smile went unnoticed beneath my milchemist mask.

"What is there to be happy about, Mr. Hunter?" the puzzled guide inquired. He still looked worried.

"They eat all the small creatures in the area, kill the cold ones, and shun humans. There's a whole nest of them out there, go put up your relic," I explained my joy and let go of his hand.

"Milsdar, we need the crypt, you know? We can't survive here without it. You know what happens if the bodies of the dead are left in the village," the woodcutter explained his logic to me. I gloomed.

"If you kill the owl bear and cubs, the other one, the one who is hunting now, will take revenge," I instructed him. He seemed to understand, or pretended to understand.

"Good, I'll go put the guardian relic back in its place," Borna replied.

I turned around and walked toward the steps. To the tombstones, blue and pink in the glow of the Titan's extinguishing light. Sitting down beside them, I scrutinized my surroundings. There were two open graves, and I didn't like them very much. I had to think…

…

In the sky the firstborn of the Bright Sonm glimmered. Over there, Urnat the Bear flared; to the right, the Trap Net frolicked and the Red Giant shimmered with its light. Borna emerged from the passage with a club in his hands. Behind him were drops of red blood. His boots were smeared with something yellow and draughty. I turned away and looked toward the cemetery. It was almost invisible in the dim light of the thousands of Light Sons that kept appearing in the black depths of the blue vault.

Crickets chirped. An unknown bird answered them with a whimsical chirp. The fox, glinting his black eyes in the glow of the green lantern, went about his business. You want to know why I didn't go to see the body of the hunter on the chill? It's simple. He was not of the group that came out of the castle with me, but died here ten years ago, as the Elder said.

Even though the Order has stopped issuing crossbows to hunters, it still assumes that the killer of the frozen ones can use them, and that's why the ancient mount for this weapon was left on his back. True, it is usually now occupied by a spear or dart. It alarmed me that no one had visited this village before me. There didn't seem to be anyone ahead. I hoped that the hunters in my group had simply passed this place by, not even knowing about this, forgotten by all, village in the thicket. It was possible. I wanted to believe it. "The places here are dangerous, so they might not have lingered," I concluded.

I was brought out of my musings by Borna, addressing me impatiently,"Well, it's done – I've put the relic up." The guide put his hands to his sides. Having poured in front of me about a dozen more black arrows, he pointed towards the forest, "Why are you sitting, let's get out of here!"

"That's not all. It wasn't an owl bear that killed your villagers," I explained and counted the new black arrows, "twelve more. Fourteen along with the one I already have.

"What are you talking about?" A grimace of fear crept over the guide's face.

"Do you see two sarcophagi open here?" I started from afar. "Yes, and someone drank all the blood from those people."

Bourne had all the blood drained from his face now. I think he was starting to get the point of what I was saying. Now he was really frightened by the juxtaposition of the two facts. I cringed.

"Wolfhounds! Werewolves!" The redneck blurted out the name of the dangerous undead he knew. I covered my face with my hand and rubbed my eyes. "It's the same thing every time. All the villagers are obsessed with them. I thought I'd get something else in the middle of nowhere."

"It's definitely not wolfsbane. If it was, there would be numerous bites all over the victim's body, if the body had survived at all. But most likely there would be nothing left of the body," I explained to him.

"Sir, then who could it have been?" Borna asked. I was about to answer him, but the hair on the back of my neck stirred, and I turned to where my guide was already looking-right behind me. Without looking away, I started to get up. The villager behind my back ran to the crypt with a wild cry. "Right decision," because now it has the relic of the keeper, and she will not let the coolie into the crypt. With a swift movement I snatched the crossbow from my back.